


Shay's Daily Life Mishaps

by imakemyownblog



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Comedic shorts, Gen, Happy Birthday Shay, Misplacing things, Shay's daily life basically, Tripping over, Waking up late, bad hair day, being sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imakemyownblog/pseuds/imakemyownblog
Summary: Five short, comedic moments that occur in the daily life of Shay Cormac.





	Shay's Daily Life Mishaps

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little thing I decided to do for Shay's birthday today. It's five short & (hopefully) comedic moments that occur in Shay's daily life because nobody's perfect and I find it funny to imagine him in these situations. And also, I'm a bit behind on updating my multi-chap fic, so why not waste more time? XD Happy birthday, ya Irish beaut! ;)
> 
> (Originally posted to my tumblr @imakemyownblog)

**_Waking up late:_  
**

> Shay was having difficulty waking up this morning. A _lot_ of difficulty. Normally, he would have very little problem with waking up at the crack of dawn. Whether it was a cold winter morning, wrapped up in the warmth of his blankets, or if he was still tired from the previous day of hunting and sailing - he always got out of bed. Always.
> 
> He considered it a talent, actually. On this particular morning, however…
> 
> His dark brown eyes cracked open slowly, only to have them shut once again when the bright morning light attacked his sleepy irises. He groaned and rolled onto his back, dragging the sheets along with him, his long legs tangled up in the thin, white material. His pillow no longer rest under his head like it had when he crawled into bed last night. It was probably on the floor somewhere, having been tossed to the side by his sleeping form - not all that unusual considering his frequent nightmares make him a tad more hazardous than a young child in a room filled with glass ornaments.
> 
> It took him a good while to gather his thoughts together: what he did yesterday, what he ate for dinner last night,  _who he even was_ , Haytham asking him to have the Morrigan prepared for a mission by the morning—
> 
> His eyes shot open this time and he practically flung himself out of the bed, only  _just_  managing to catch himself right before he left a nice imprint of his face on the hardwood floors of his bedroom. As he struggled to pull on his pants, a quick look out the window told him that Haytham was going to be very, _very_  displeased with him.

**_Bad hair day:_ **

> Shay cursed as his dark hair tangled into the red ribbon once more. A few loose, uncooperative strands fell in front of his eyes and he blew them away with quick huff, unwrapping the ribbon for another attempt.
> 
> Only for it to tangle once again.
> 
> He groaned. “Come on, you piece o’ shite…”
> 
> He let his hair fall down completely this time, hoping that a fresh start would somehow reward him with better results. When he failed the simple task for a fourth time, he sighed heavily and cast the ribbon to the floor in annoyance, quiet grumbles leaving his lips. He really didn’t have time for this.

**_Being sick:_ **

> Shay sneezed for the umpteenth time that day, unintentionally gaining the attention of his first mate once more. Gist peered at him from under his wide-brimmed hat, his eyes twinkling in uncovered amusement as he folded his arms over his chest.
> 
> “Are you  _sure_  you’re okay?” He asked, trying to stop himself from chuckling at his fellow friend and captain.
> 
> “I‘m fine,” Shay replied brusquely, trying to focus on navigating the Morrigan towards her next destination.
> 
> It wasn’t often that the young man got sick, but when he did, it awakened the stubbornness inside of him, making him somewhat unpleasant to be around—for other people, at least. For Gist, it was like waking up on Christmas morning. He never told Shay that, of course, but  _boy_ , did he get a kick out of it.
> 
> Said young man sneezed again.
> 
> “Perhaps you should take the rest of the day off to recuperate—”
> 
> “I said I’m fine, Gist!” Shay stressed, finally turning his head to pin the older man with a half-hearted glare. He wasn’t meaning to sound rude, but he couldn’t stop himself from grunting, his gloved hands tightening around the wheel.“‘Sides, I have better things to do than lie around in bed all day…”
> 
> “Of course, Captain,” Gist replied, hiding a smile as he pretended to survey a fishing vessel in the distance.
> 
> What a stubborn young man.

**_Forgetting where he placed things:_ **

> Where is it? He was fairly certain he placed it here: in the third drawer of his main desk, hidden under a couple of random papers and files. Haytham was going to have his head if he lost those documents. They contained important information on a former ally and if he misplaced them, that would cost the Templars a lot of time and money spent into locating them.
> 
> Yes. Haytham would most likely end him.
> 
> He spent the good part of an hour rummaging around the whole of Fort Arsenal, mumbling and grumbling as he continued to search in various drawers, boxes and even under his bed, for God’s sake! He was very near turning the place upside down in order to find those damned documents. Why was  _he_  left in charge of them anyway? Why couldn’t the Grandmaster’s puppy dog take care of them? Shay had no doubts that the man would be more than happy to do so if it was something Haytham asked of him—
> 
> Shay was halfway through scouring his drawers for a second time when his first mate walked through the front door. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the state of Shay’s home. He considered the young man a relatively neat person when it came to the conditions of the ship and his home, but there were times where he stressed out and it made him a little less than clean - like now, for example.
> 
> “Uh, Shay?”
> 
> Said man glimpsed up at him, momentarily pausing his search. “Yes, Gist?”
> 
> “Now, I’m not  _usually_  one for ruining a good time,” he said humorously, walking over to the Irishman and pulling something out from inside his coat, “- but we really should get to work on this case here.”
> 
> Shay froze the second he saw the very documents he was looking for in his first mate’s hands, and he shook his head with a breathy laugh. He forgot he gave those to Gist to hold onto. “There you are, ya bastard…”

**_Tripping over:_ **

> Shay let out a relaxed sigh as he leaned his arms onto the counter of the bar, a newly refilled tankard of rum in his hands. He had just returned from a mission that took a lot longer than he expected, and he was rewarding himself with a nice, peaceful evening at the tavern not too far from Fort Arsenal. He hasn’t had a proper moment to just sit down and unwind, and think about things - not since his induction into the order, at least.
> 
> The moment he walked into the bar, his eyes caught sight of a pretty, young lass eyeing him from the other side of the room. He certainly wasn’t a stranger to the fairer sex and his younger self probably would’ve headed right over there to try and woo her into joining him for some overnight fun, but he smartly decided that now was not the time. Besides, he had more things to attend to later on and he was sure she would get bored waiting around for him.
> 
> Finishing off his drink with a few large gulps, he left the empty tankard and some money on the counter before turning around to leave. Another glance to the other side of the room revealed to him that the young lady was still staring at him none too subtly, most likely hoping to gain his attention somehow. He decided to surprise her with an obvious wink in her direction, and he smirked when she giggled into her hands.
> 
> As he was smoothly making his way towards the exit, his foot caught itself on a piece of wood that jutted out of the floor, and was nearly sent tumbling over into a group of other patrons. Nobody else was paying attention to him, but he sure as hell didn’t glance back towards the other side of the room, knowing he probably entertained his pretty admirer much more in that moment than he could’ve done if he’d taken her home that night.


End file.
